


I Don't Want To Meet You Nowhere

by Starkurt



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8342110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkurt/pseuds/Starkurt
Summary: 2x08 AU. Based on very old conspiracy theories in which Dave would show up at the Hudson-Hummel wedding.





	

Kurt straightened his back, standing in front of a small stack of chairs he’d pushed against the wall. Taking a moment to push a strand of hair that had fallen across his forehead, he mouthed along as he silently counted the row of chairs he’d collected. Sixty. Sixty four.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Kurt knew there were only eighty in total, meaning that his wedding clean up work was nearly through. While a few straggling glee members had offered to help once his father and Carole were whisked away to their mini hotel retreat, Kurt had quickly refused, and escorted them out with the rest of the guests, knowing they were just as tired as he was. To no surprise, all but Finn and Mercedes left without a second thought, but he assured them that, as wedding planner, he could handle it. He already had a small crew of venue workers to look after, and figured that instructing his friends around would only mean Kurt would lose track of where the employees were putting the decorations he intended to keep. He’d already lost three centerpieces, at least one of which he’s assuming left with Brittany.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Kurt assumed the guy taking out the tables had returned (rather fast, but who was he to complain), and gestured at the stacks in front of him. “You can start taking these back to the storage. I only have a few more to grab, but there is no use waiting for me to be done before you all start taking them.” He turned to give a small grateful nod, but was stopped dead in his tracks, his blood turning to ice.

“What are you doing here?” Kurt gaped, instinctively stepping backwards at the sight of David Karofsky.

A pause, one that seemingly lasted for decades as Kurt’s blood rushed in his ears as he watched Karofsky’s face harden in… what? Concentration? Murderous rage?

“I need to talk to you.”

Another pause. Kurt’s entire body went warm, then superheated with such anger that his entire body began to tremble. “Get out,” he spat, stepping back once more. “Get out of here. I don’t need this. Not tonight. You do not get to ruin this day for me.” A shaking hand went to his back pocket, hovering over where he’d slipped his phone earlier as an alarm ran red and loud in the back of his mind.

Karofsky didn’t move, and his face unreadable, which only drove Kurt’s fear further. Only when Kurt opened his mouth to call for someone else did the boy speak again.

“I just… I need to talk,” Karofsky said flatly, though the slight hesitation in the statement stilled Kurt’s hand.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Kurt replied quickly, a scowl settling on his face, but he moved no further back. “And not only is this private property, but stalking me is enough grounds for me to call the cops on you. Not that I didn’t already have reason to.”

Karofsky rolled his eyes. _The nerve_ , Kurt thought, glaring.

“My uncle is working crew here,” the boy explained, stiffly gesturing over his shoulder at the open venue doors. “One of the pickups crapped out, so he called me to ask to borrow mine while they called a tow guy. Saw your dad and Hudson’s name out front, then saw you in here.” Karofsky gave an awkward shrug, but his face was still tense.

Silence hung between them for a few moments as Kurt debated his next action. His thoughts were interrupted as a pair of workers came through the door, looking to Kurt for direction. “The chairs are ready, if you want to finish collecting them,” he said, loud enough to echo through the near-empty reception hall. “Don’t let anyone leave without seeing me first.” With a nod, the two men moved to collect the remaining chairs.

Kurt looked back at Karofsky, crossing his arms defensively. “I’m busy.”

“Looks like they have it covered.”

“You need to leave.”

“Hummel, look–”

“I don’t care.” Kurt cut him off, his arms dropping to his sides. His anger began to stir once more, already furious that his night was threatened to be ruined by this confrontation. “I don’t ever want–”

“Can you just listen to–”

“–you anywhere near me, my friends, or my–”

“Stop, okay? Can–”

“–family. You need to get ou–”

“ _Please_!”

Kurt halted at that, taken aback by the sudden outcry. He hadn’t noticed Karofsky’s demeanor change, the boy’s face red and his shoulders slumped. An arm was frozen from where it was partially reaching out, fingers splayed. The previous stoic look had faded into one of genuine emotion, one that Kurt had only seen once before. The memory drove a sharp buzz in his mind, causing Kurt to wince.

Karofsky’s eyes darted behind Kurt, and Kurt following them to see the workers stilled, looking at them with wide eyes. Turning back to the other, Kurt crossed his arms again, quirking an eyebrow at him expectedly.

There was another hesitation, the clinking of chairs behind them resuming. A few moments passed as Karofsky’s mouth seemed to fumble for words, eventually leading to the boy licking his lips nervously. Kurt waited, impatience building as his exhaustion began to set in. He watched as the workers made their way back out the door with chairs in the arms.

“Just…” Karofsky drawled, his tongue darting out again. “I’m sorry, I guess.”

Kurt inhaled, having to drop his arms again as his fingers dug into his arms.

“‘I guess?’” he snapped, his voice low. He raised a hand, his fist clenched into a point. “You put me through hell, you hurt my friends, you tell me you’re going to kill me, and you ‘guess’ you’re sorry?” His teeth clenched behind his lips, and he felt a vein in his jaw begin to throb under tension. “Fuck you,” he spat, moving to turn away from the boy.

“No–” a hand clasped around his wrist, keeping him from moving. Kurt spun back around, tearing his arm from Karofsky’s grip.

“Don’t _touch_ me!” he shouted, desperately hoping his voice traveled to someone that would care.

Karofsky drew his hand back, and Kurt was confused to catch that the boy’s face was laced with… what, hurt? Fear? Whatever it was, it wasn’t a threat, but Kurt could barely see through his own fury, his pounding heart only making his need for an escape clear in his mind. Holding his wrist as if it’d been broken, Kurt clutched his hand to his chest, his eyes shooting daggers as his mind attempted to catch up.

Immediately, a dam burst.

“Why didn’t you tell them, then!” Karofsky yelled, causing Kurt to jump. “If I gave you this much crap, why didn’t you just tell them? Why didn’t you get back at me?” His voice slowly lowered, enough to where his words stopped bouncing around the room. “I deserve it, but you didn’t, even though you had the chance. Why wouldn’t you?”

Kurt’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, trying to figure out what the other was even referring to. It quickly clicked, his glare shifting to a look of disbelief.

“You know why,” he said, his voice clipped. “I told you.”

“But why?” Karofsky’s voice cracked at that, which again took Kurt by surprise. Then again, why should it, considering–

“I know what you’re going through. Not in the same way, but generally. And I like to think I’m decent enough as a human being to not want to hold that against you, no matter how awful the circumstance. I also learned anger management very early on,” he added, tilting his chin up.

“You still should’ve.”

“Would you?”

Karofsky hesitated.

“I wanted to help you,” Kurt said after a moment. He meant it sincere, but his tone still ran cold. “But considering nothing I say can get through to you, and instead led to me living with nightmares, I doubt I can hold that offer anymore. Not without reason.”

Karofsky’s expression shifted at the last word, silence falling between them again. Kurt collected his thoughts slowly, deciding to continue. “I have no right to say what you are or are not. I also have no right to assume that our situations are similar beyond what has been made obvious.” Kurt dropped his volume as the two movers returned, giving only a quick glance at him and Karofsky before returning to the stacks of chairs. “But you are dealing with… something. And, truthfully, with enough time and effort, I would be willing to help you if it meant giving someone something I wish I had when I needed it.”

Karofsky’s mouth lay pursed and emotionless, but whatever was flashing across his eyes told Kurt that more was stirring behind that wall the boy had built up. He dropped his eyes eventually, leaving Kurt to look around in wait. Kurt gave a small, fake smile as the men left the hall again with chairs in arm, but it went unnoticed. When Kurt decided to look back at Karofsky, the boy’s eyes were locked with his.

“I didn’t mean it,” Karofsky said, his jaw tense, but his face otherwise softer. “That… It doesn’t… It’s not like that changes it. I know that. But just… I didn’t know.”

Despite the tension, Kurt was surprised by this. While his fear and instinct and pain still clung to both heart and mind, this boy in front of him was different. He’d seen this Karofsky in the office. Suddenly, he realized that it was very possible he would have outed Karofsky that afternoon, but the fact that his tormentor had become more human than walking terror had caused him to reconsider. The thought of an alternate made him sick to consider.

“Okay,” Kurt said.

Karofsky cocked his head slightly.

“I don’t forgive you,” he continued, dropping his gaze for a moment, missing Karofsky’s wince. “I can’t, in my right mind. But I at least understand, and that’s enough to start.”

“Start…?”

“I don’t want to help you. But I need to. Both for your own sake, and for mine,” Kurt explained. And it was true– at the very least, Kurt could receive closure, and calm his mind enough to realize that he didn’t have to think about Karofsky ever again any more than a personal life hurdle. If it went well… Kurt didn’t know. He couldn’t imagine it now, but he knew it was still a valid outcome.

Kurt let out a breath. “I will see if I can help reverse your expulsion. I doubt coming to Coa– Principal Sylvester directly would prove any use considering the situation, but I can see what strings can be pulled more anonymously.”

Karofsky remained silent, but gave a small nod. Kurt returned it, ready to accept it as the end of the confrontation when Karofsky spoke up again.  
  
“Thanks.”

It wasn’t necessarily what Kurt wanted to hear from the boy, but it was enough that he could pick up the true weight behind it. At least, that’s what he hoped– it was entirely possible he was shoehorning in meaning where there was none, but as a dreamer, Kurt couldn’t help but assume the best in a situation. Giving another nod, Kurt watched as a group of employees returned to the hall, catching Kurt’s attention.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Kurt said, stepping away from the other to meet the movers in the middle of the hall. By the time he had given his thanks and tipped them each, Karofsky had disappeared, leaving Kurt in an empty hall.

He stood quietly for a few moments, processing the events of the night as the sound of engines starting up and tires pulling away hummed through the open doors. Finally, he let out a sigh, exhaustion shutting down his mind as he pushed a fallen sleeve up, and went to finishing move the last of the chairs.


End file.
